31 Tales of Halloween
by Alantie Mistaniu
Summary: Drabble challenge for Halloween. Fics ranging from brotherly bonding to fluff to randomness. Please enjoy. Now complete!
1. Too Old?

A/N: A collection of 31 SPN Halloween drabbles I'm doing with a friend. Done for theme 29. Scary Movies.

Disclaimer: I owned, there wouldn't be 2 new chicks on the show

Too Old?

"You'd rather watch lame scary movies than go out looting for candy?"

Sam really couldn't blame the incredulous tone in Dean's voice. But that didn't mean he had to admit it. "I'm too old for Trick or Treating," was his response.

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. "You're fourteen, dude."

"And you're eighteen," he shot back, dragging his eyes away from the fake monster shambling around the screen to glare at his brother. "I'd say you're way past your childhood days."

"Hello? Collecting free candy? You honestly think I'm going to pass that up?"

"Whatever," Sam sighed, returning his attention to the poor woman about to be eaten by the creature.

Dean stared at the back of Sam's head for a moment before stalking around the couch and picking up the stack of movies, ignoring Sam's protests. One by one he tossed them back down on the couch as he read off the titles. "The Haunting. Friday the Thirteenth. Halloween. Nightmare on Elm Street. The Changeling. The Howling. Poltergeist. Night of the Living Dead. The Blair Witch Project? You've got to be kidding me."

Sam snatched the movie back. "Go away," he muttered. "Don't you have to wrap yourself in tinfoil or something for a costume?"

"Seriously little bro, I don't get you," Dean sighed. "We see scarier crap than this nearly every day. If you're really aiming to scare yourself, you should have got It."

"Ha ha," the younger teen said sarcastically.

Dean's brow creased slightly in a frown, and he sat down next to Sam. "C'mon, I'm not getting it. Why do you want to watch a bunch of dumb scary movies instead of getting lots of free candy?"

Sam was quiet for a moment, green eyes fixed on the screen where the monster was tearing off the arm of some man. Totally fake. "Because it's normal for kids my age," he said at last. "All my friends in school were saying that they're too old to go trick or treating, and that they're going to watch scary movies instead. Movies like these are scary to other people."

Dean didn't quite know what to say to that. He'd never had this desire to be normal the way Sam had, but he could see why it would be hard for the kid. He reached over and plucked the remote from Sam's hand, hitting the pause button. "Ok, Sam. I'll make you a deal. You come out with me for collecting candy, and then we'll come back here and watch some of these movies."

"Why?"

"'Cause I want you to feel normal."

Sam stared at his brother for a long moment. "Ok," he said slowly. "But I don't have a costume."

"We've got lots of tinfoil. Or toilet paper if you'd rather be a mummy."

He groaned. "Great."

"No worries, Sammy. We'll be back and watching Night of the Living Dead in no time." Dean rubbed his hands together gleefully. "That's one I haven't seen yet!"


	2. Creepy Crawly

A/N: For theme 9. Spider.

Disclaimer: I owned, there wouldn't be 2 new chicks on the show

Creepy Crawly

"Mommy, what does Sammy want to be this year?" Dean asked, holding onto the hem of his mom's jacket as they walked down the Halloween aisle at the store, filled to bursting with costumes for kids of all ages. They had already picked out a cowboy costume for Dean, complete with a stick horse, a hat, boots, and a toy pistol.

"Hmm," Mary hummed absently, examining a wad of orange fabric. "I don't know. Sammy doesn't really understand Halloween yet, sweetie."

"Oh." Dean frowned, thinking this over. "But it's his first one, Mommy! We have to get him a good costume!"

She smiled down at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Of course we will," she told him. "What do you think of this one?" She held out the outfit, a jack o lantern complete with a green stem hat.

Dean wrinkled his nose. "That's not cool enough, right Sammy?" From his car seat in the shopping cart, Sam gurgled and kicked his legs. "See Mommy? Sammy doesn't want to be a weird ol' pumpkin."

Mary laughed. "Okay, okay, no pumpkin costume for Sam. Let's see what else they have."

Fifteen minutes later they had rejected the cow outfit, the peas in a pod, and a bumblebee suit. Dean stood on his tip toes, scanning the rack when a waving black limb caught his eye. Reaching up, he managed to pull the costume down. It was a spider costume in black and red, with two wire limbs on each side in addition to the arms and legs.

"Oooh, Mommy! Look at this one!"

Taking the costume from Dean, a smile creased Mary's face as she imagined the sight her boys would make on Halloween night. "I like it a lot Dean. But what does Sam think about it?"

Dean ran over to the cart, peering down at his little brother's face. "Whaddya say, Sammy? Do you want to be a cool spider and make all the girls scream?"

Sam grinned and cooed at his brother, a tiny hand closing around one of Dean's fingers.

"I guess that settles it then," Mary said cheerfully, putting the little spider outfit in the cart beside Dean's cowboy costume. Privately, she was sure Sam would get more 'awws' than screams, but it was better not to disillusion Dean.


	3. Weird Boy

A/N: For theme 21. Skeleton

Disclaimer: I owned, there wouldn't be 2 new chicks on the show

Weird Boy

Sam had been awfully quiet ever since they had entered the store. His brother cast a sideways glance at him as he pushed the shopping cart along, grabbing a box of Lucky Charms off the shelf and tossing it in with the rest of their purchases. Sam had quite the sweet tooth. He was probably looking forward to Halloween, Dean realized.

"Hey, bro," he inquired casually as they rounded the corner. "What do you want to be for Halloween this year?"

The boy's shoulders lifted in a half shrug.

Dean frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means I dunno," was the sullen response.

"You don't want to stock up on candy?"

A scowl was his response as Sam glared up at him. "Of course I do," he grumped.

"Then why are you acting like a baby?"

"Not a baby."

Dean growled in frustration, putting a loaf of bread in the front of the cart. "Then _talk_ to me."

Sam stared down at his dirty sneakers. "Am I weird, Dean?"

"Where did that come from?" his brother asked, bewildered.

He scuffed his foot, leaving a black streak against the white tile floor. "Kids at school say I'm weird," he said at last.

Fighting back his rising temper, Dean tried to keep his voice neutral. "Why would they do that?"

Sam bit down on his lip, still staring down. "We were talkin' in class about Halloween, and scary things we see around that time. One kid said skeletons were scary." He heaved a gusty sigh, his nose wrinkling. "I told him they weren't, that they were just what we left behind when we died. They can't hurt us or anything, so I tried to tell them that."

Dean winced. "I guess that didn't go over so well."

"No," was the glum answer. "They just said I was weird, even though my teacher tried to tell them I was right."

He really didn't know what to say to make Sam feel better. "I'm sorry," he offered at last. "You're just ahead of the other kids. They'll catch up to you eventually. Then they won't think you're weird anymore."

Sam shrugged again, taking two cans of chili off of the shelf and putting them in the shopping basket. "Maybe."

"I can always beat them up for you, if you'd like," Dean offered.

His brother's expression was a cross between adoration and horror. "You'd get in trouble."

"Aw, who cares," Dean said, throwing an arm around Sam's shoulders. "You're worth it, Sammy." He was pleased to see his brother's face light up happily. "So honestly, what do you want to be for Halloween? A skeleton?" he teased.

"No!" Sam pushed his arm off his shoulder with a huff. "I wanna be an archeologist!"

His older brother groaned inwardly. _No wonder they think you're weird, squirt,_ he thought affectionately.


	4. Fraidy Cat

A/N: For theme 6. Black Cat

Disclaimer: I owned, there wouldn't be 2 new chicks on the show

Fraidy Cat

His brother hated cats. More specifically, Dean hated black cats. Sam couldn't really understand why. Even though he was more of a dog person himself, the youngest Winchester didn't mind cats. In fact, he and Jess had even owned one when they were living together, a nice fat tabby cat that liked to sit on his feet and purr. But get a black cat near Dean and he would bolt, cussing and swearing so fast Sam couldn't even make the words out.

The autumn leaves crunched underfoot as they headed back to the motel from the library where they had been researching the past of a boarded up veterinary clinic that had been experiencing an unexplained haunting recently. They had been walking along in companionable silence, both lost in their own minds as they pondered over the case, when a tiny mew broke through the quiet.

Dean jumped a foot, a string of swears escaping his lips as he backed up to stand beside Sam, staring at the tiny black ball of fur that sat on the sidewalk in front of them. Raising an eyebrow slightly, Sam crouched down, offering a hand to the small creature. It sniffed his fingertips cautiously, then licked him, its pink tongue like rough sandpaper. A grin twitched Sam's lips and he carefully picked the kitten up, the small creature dwarfed in his large hands.

"Are you crazy?!" Dean growled, still staring at the cat as if it were some fearsome beast. "Put that darn thing down!!"

A chuckle escaped his brother's lips, turning around to look at him with the kitten cradled protectively against his chest. "Aw, c'mon Dean. It's just a little cat."

"I don't care!" he growled, glaring at the kitten that only blinked at him innocently.

"You can't expect me to leave it out here. It wouldn't last a night between the temperature and traffic. Besides, it's Halloween. You know what gruesome stuff people do to black cats on Halloween. It'll just be for one night, Dean. Just until we take care of this hunt, then we'll find it a home."

Stamping his foot, Dean snarled, "No way in hell am I going to let that little monster in the place where I'm sleeping!"

In the end, Sam won the argument. But that didn't mean that Dean didn't try to punish them both for it in his own way. He avoided whatever corner of the room the kitten had made its own like the plague, and was refusing to speak to Sam at all whenever possible. Not that Sam and 'Spook' seemed to notice.

That was the name Sam had chosen to call the little beast for the time being. Spook. Dean snorted inwardly. It worked, that was for sure, the way the cat's eerie green eyes never seemed to blink, curled up on Sam's shoulder as the man watched TV, its unblinking stare alternating between the screen and Dean.

He shuddered. Evil critter. "Sam," he said with forced politeness. "Will you _please_ take that-that thing somewhere else?"

"And where would you suggest?" Sam inquired, dragging his attention away from the TV to stare at him. "In case you hadn't noticed, there's only one room."

"Then PLEASE put it in the bathroom?"

Heaving a sigh, his brother shook his head. "And what happens when you need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night?"

"I wake you up and make you hold it until I'm finished?" he suggested desperately.

"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous," Sam told him, his brow furrowing as he glanced down at the Spook. "What on earth is so terrifying about cats?"

"What's so frightening about Ronald McDonald?"

"Dude, that's so not funny."

He chuckled darkly. "I certainly think so," he said with a smirk.

Sam glared at him fiercely. "In case you've forgotten, we have evidence that clowns kill. Give me one good reason why Spook should have to spend the night in the bathroom."

Scowling Dean flopped over on his back on his bed so he wouldn't have to look at Sam. "Alright, nosy, if you must know, the Halloween before you were born when Dad took me out Trick or Treating, at the Mackenzie's house their big black cat had been freaked out by the doorbell ringing and when they opened the door to give us candy he shot out the door and ploughed right into me."

For a moment, Sam stared at his brother before bursting out into laughter.

"It's not funny!" Dean hissed between his teeth turning over to glare at Sam. "You don't remember that thing! It was huge- the size of a small dog, I swear!" This only made his brother laugh harder. "And the friggen thing got tangled up in my mummy wrappings- it was hissing and spitting, and clawing, and I remember those bulbous green eyes-" He broke off shuddering.

By this time Sam had fallen over onto his own bed, howling with mirth, clutching at his sides, gasping for breath. Spook had vacated his shoulder and was crouched on the bed, its emerald gaze fixed on Dean.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Bigfoot," Dean muttered grimly, kicking off his shoes and falling back on the bed. "Just keep that evil beast away from me tonight, got it?"

Between guffaws, Sam managed to nod, picking up Spook and putting him on his second pillow. "No worries, Dean. The mean ol' kitten's sleeping with me tonight."

It didn't matter that Spook spent the entire night wrapped around Sam's head; Dean couldn't sleep, feeling those unblinking green eyes fixed on him the entire time.


	5. Light in the Dark

A/N: For the theme Candle.

Disclaimer: I owned, Sam would be all mine.

Light in the Dark

He kept the vigil alone that Halloween night. Dean had fallen asleep ages ago in front of the TV watching a bad horror movie, and Sam didn't have the heart to wake him. He just wished that he had something to keep his mind occupied, to keep the dark thoughts at bay. Leaning back in his arm chair he ran his hand distractedly though his hair, his green eyes wandering over to the table at his elbow.

A lone white candle flickered there in a puddle of its own wax, shining its weak light out of the motel window to the night beyond. Sam stared at it dully, Dean's snores echoing in his ears, wishing he dared to fall asleep himself. But ever since they were children John had insisted that this ritual be carried out every Halloween, and old habits die hard after all.

For the longest time, Sam had thought the candle ritual was silly; such a small weak flame was supposed to keep them safe on Halloween night? It sounded stupid, and he had only gone along with it to keep his father placated. But as time wore on, he had begun to delve into the meaning behind symbols, rituals, and mythology, and better understood exactly why they had placed lit candles in every window of whatever was there home at that time.

Many believed that candles were a form of protection against spirits on All Hallows Eve; it was part of the reason jack o lanterns had been carved, though that too had faded to become nothing more than part of the holiday decor. As long as the candles burned all through the night, no spirits could enter to harm them; John certainly seemed willing enough to try it- no matter how silly it seemed, it was worth it if it protected his boys. But perhaps there was some truth to that story.

Every Halloween when the candles burned bright in the window, no nightmares came, and no harm ever befell them.


	6. Caramel and Memories

A/N: For the theme Candy Apples. Review please if you like. :)

Disclaimer: I owned, Sam would be all mine.

Caramel and Memories

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?"

His brother looked up, looking highly affronted. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Sam sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead as he counted to ten and prayed for patience. "It looks to me like you're burning food," he told him steadily, eyeing the charcoaled mess in the pan on the hot plate. "I leave you for half an hour to buy those apples you wanted, dodging trick or treaters the whole way, and you nearly succeed in burning the hotel down?"

Dean made a face, sighing as he scraped the blackened remains into the trash can. "Sorry, sorry. . . I should have remembered I suck at cooking anything more complicated than a can of spaghetti o's or a bowl of cereal."

Putting the small sack of apples in a chair, Sam cautiously approached, staring down into the garbage bin. "Do I dare ask what you were trying to do?"

The older Winchester glared at him for a moment before relenting with another sigh. "I was trying to make caramel for caramel apples, the way Mom did." 

It was so rare that Dean ever talked about their Mom in any context that Sam was momentarily taken aback. Slowly he sat down beside his brother on the bed. "She did?"

Dean's mouth curved in a momentary smile. "Yeah, she did. Homemade too, none of that store bought crap to make things easier. I remember her doing it the Halloween just before you were born. She let me help- putting the ingredients in, licking the pan, eating them when they were finished." He laughed. "It was the only way she'd ever gotten me to eat an apple. She promised me that I would be able to help her dip the apples the next Halloween. . ."

His voice trailed off, and Sam understood the sadness behind the words. It caused a pain in his own heart; he didn't have these memories of his mother to fall back on the way Dean did. The only time he had ever seen her was in photos, a vision of the past, and as a spirit.

Shifting awkwardly, he glanced over at Dean. "Thanks," he responded quietly.

Dean, being the sensitive soul he was, understood. "No problem."

"Do you still have some of the ingredients left over?"

Eyeing his brother suspiciously, Dean inquired, "Yeah, why?"

Sam grinned slightly. "'Cause I had to make caramel in my 7th grade cooking class." Elbowing his brother lightly in the ribs, he added, "I'll let you dip the apples, but you're forbidden to stir or add anything."

"Understood, Sammy."


	7. Talk with Death

A/N: For the theme Reaper. Review please!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, very sad. :(

Talk with Death

She had been staring at him ever since he had come into the bar that night.

Unable to sleep, Dean had left Sam sleeping in the motel room and had driven the short distance to the bar. Halloween was still in full swing for many there; the bartender dressed as a dead air force pilot and many others decked out in full costume beneath fake spider webs and sheet ghosts. It was only 11 though, so it was to be expected.

Dean took a long drink from his bottle, trying to ignore the stare of the woman at the other end of the bar. He wasn't decked out in a weird costume, and as far as he knew, he didn't have anything on his face. He _was_ an attractive guy, but most girls would have moved in for the kill by now instead of just staring their eyes out. It wasn't even the ogling kind of stare; this was creepier, watchful.

He shuddered, looking away momentarily but when he looked again, she had stood and was walking towards him. Taking the few moments before she arrived, he quickly looked her over. Petite, pale, short dark hair and huge dark eyes, she was stunning. As far as he knew, he'd never met her before, which was a good sign. It meant it wasn't some angry girl he'd jilted years ago and forgotten about.

She slid into the seat next to him. "Hello, Dean."

He nearly chocked on his drink. "Excuse me?" he said cautiously. "Have we met?"

Those dark eyes searched his for a long moment. "Yes," she replied at last, her voice soft and melodic. "Though I never properly introduced myself."

His mind was blank, and he cringed inwardly. "Maybe you could refresh my memory?" he asked hopefully.

She was quiet for a long moment, her pale hands toying idly with an empty glass that rested on the counter. "When we met, you were dying. I had come to take you away." She sighed softly, before looking up at him. "But there was a . . . change in plans."

Dean stared at her in confusion. "Er-" was the unintelligent word that escaped his lips.

For the first time, a smile curved her lips. "I don't expect you to remember. Due to the circumstances, it's understandable that you don't." Once more she looked away. "Your body had gone through major trauma, and so did your soul. Then with your father dying right after, well, it's no wonder really."

It was like an electric jolt had passed through his body. He remembered faintly- tattered and foggy memories that he had assumed were just part of his dream like state while in his coma. Sitting cross legged on the floor with Sam, hands resting on a plastic triangle. A white, wispy creature hovering over a dying patient. Wandering the halls of a hospital, unable to be seen or heard. And her, this dark eyed girl. A reaper.

"I thought-"

"I know. And who knows? Maybe it was. Maybe you are dreaming now."

It took everything he had to not bolt from her now. "What are you doing here?"

"Relax, Dean," she told him calmly, her chin resting in her palm as she gazed at him. "I'm not here for you, or Sam."

"Then how can I see you?" Dean demanded, his body still rigid. "The only ones who can see you-"

She raised an eyebrow. "You think I don't know the rules? But for this, I decided to bend them a bit. Besides, death is very close to you anyway, and Halloween is a night for death after all."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Okay. Let me ask again. Why are you here?"

A slight shrug of her shoulders was her response. "The usual business. Death. More specifically, your approaching one." The glass at last came to a halt on the counter and she looked up at him. "After fighting me so desperately to stay alive, you're now so willing to walk into death?"

Dean returned her shrug. "If you know that, then you know the terms of the deal. I try anything funny to screw things up, and Sam drops dead."

A laugh escaped her lips. "If anything, Dean Winchester, you know how to find the loop holes in deals like that. What happened to that will to live? Where has it gone?"

He lifted his bottle to his lips, taking another sip. "To be honest, I don't really know." Setting it down with a clunk, the words suddenly began to spill from him. "I'm just sick of it, you know? Sick of others dying and risking their lives because of me. I mean, first that faith healer business, then my dad, and now Sam too? I just can't do it anymore. I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be alive. You said so yourself."

"Another reason I'm here." When Dean looked at her, startled, she gave him a wry smile. "I used to believe that life and death were simple. It's my job after all. But then I met you." Once more those dark eyes held him and he shivered. "Though everyone and everything has a time to die, I don't think you and Sam are held as tightly by those bonds as others. It's almost as if. . ." Her voice trailed off.

"As if what?" Dean inquired.

"As if you make your own destinies," she said simply. "Even up to the point of choosing when and how you die." She rose then, smoothly, fluidly, still staring down at him. "Don't let this be the end for you," she told him quietly. "I would hate for this Halloween to be your last."

She left him sitting there, speechless, and with more to think about than ever before.


	8. A Little Batty

A/N: For the theme BAt. Review please!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, very sad. :(

A Little Batty

"I can't believe this."

Dean resisted the urge to snort, glancing over at Sam. "Yeah, me neither."

"This is so messed up."

"Yeah, no kidding. I'm the one talking to a flying rodent."

"I'm the one who _is_ the flying rodent, jerk!"

"Yeah, so?" Dean said defensively, glancing down at his shoulder where the little brown bat clunk to the cloth of his flannel shirt. "It isn't my fault that hoodoo lady cursed you!"

The bat's ears twitched in annoyance, and Dean could almost see the glare he knew Sam would be sporting. "Technically, yes, it is, since she was aiming for _you._"

"I can't help it if the old bag's aim was off," he argued, scowling at Sam. "Look, just chill. I talked to Bobby and Ellen, and the curse isn't permanent. It'll wear off before midnight, just like Cinderella, Princess, only with Halloween and a bat."

"Shut _up!_" Sam hissed furiously.

"Hey, hey, don't go batty on me now," Dean said, holding up his hands.

"Ha ha," was the icy response. "Did you think that up all by yourself?"

"Yes, actually," the older Winchester retorted, opening the door to their hotel room and flicking on the light. Sam flinched and Dean winced, hastily flicking the light switch back down. "Oops, sorry, forgot. You're as blind as a bat." 

"Dude, seriously, enough with the bat jokes or I'm going to bite you and hopefully give you rabies or something."

"Bats have rabies?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Sam muttered grumpily. "Being one doesn't mean I know if they do or not."

"Touchy, touchy," Dean taunted, carefully picking the little bat off of his shoulder and depositing him on his pillow. "Maybe you should sleep."

"Bats are nocturnal," Sam sighed, his tiny claws hooked into the cotton pillowcase to keep from sliding down into the bedding. "You know, that means sleep during the day, awake at night?"

"Gee thanks, random facts encyclopedia." Dean flopped down on his bed with a sigh, digging a bag of cheetos out of his sack. "You want some?" he offered, holding out the bag. "They're not moths or mosquitoes, but their pretty good."

"No thanks, I don't think I could manage."

Dean shrugged. "That's cool. All the more for me, Batman."

"That's it!" Flying erratically, Sam launched himself at Dean's head.

"Yarg!!!" Yelping in a very undignified fashion, Dean tried to shield himself from the aerial assault with a pillow. "You really are batty! Cut it out, you freak!"

When Sam showed no signs of stopping, Dean grabbed a blanket, throwing it like a net over the bat and trapping it on the bed.

"Let me out!!!" he hollered angrily, floundering around helplessly under the blanket pinning him down.

"If you promise to stop dive-bombing my head!"

"Fine!" the movement stopped and he cautiously peeled back the blanket to stare at the tiny bat that glared up at him. Resisting the urge to give Sam a flick on the head, he picked him up and returned him to his own bed. "I'll be glad when midnight comes."

"That makes two of us."

Dean sighed, then yawned. "Well, I'm going to get some sleep, not all of us are nocturnal at the moment. I'll set my alarm for midnight."

"Fine."

He woke three hours later to his alarm going off. Squinting through the dark, Dean reached for the lamp, then hesitated. "Sammy?"

"Your alarm was off," came the reply. "It's okay, you can turn on the light if you want."

Dean complied and was relieved to find Sam laying on his bed, fully human once more and eating some of the cheetos. "What a relief."

"You're telling me." Sam chucked the bag across the distance separating them, hitting Dean in the head.

"Ow! Freak! What was that for?!"

"Getting me cursed in the first place!"


	9. What a Way

A/N: For the theme Tombstone. Reviews are love!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, very sad. :(

What a Way

"Dude, it's okay."

Dean's voice broke through the haze and Sam looked up at him worriedly. "How is this okay?" he hissed softly, so that Dad wouldn't hear them. "We're. . . we're. . ."

The older brother raised an eyebrow. "In a graveyard?" he suggested, a smirk curving his lips. "On Halloween night? Yes we are. So?"

Sam eyed the marble tombstones with a shudder before turning his gaze back towards the sturdy figure of his father plodding along ahead of them. In his hands was a shotgun. Dean at his side was carrying two shovels, and Sam had been entrusted with the salt and lighter fluid, both tucked safely in his deep coat pockets.

He hugged himself tightly, wishing he was still at home, eating his candy and watching late night horror movies on TV. But John had come home to round up both boys, needing their assistance on a job. It wasn't Sam's first time helping out with the family business, but this was his first time in a graveyard in the dead of night on the scariest night of the year.

"Dean. . ." He was trying hard not whine, but he was freaked out.

"Honestly, do you think Dad would risk bringing your little pansy butt out here if he thought there was a chance that you could get hurt?"

He scowled at his brother, but knew that he was right. John never took any risks with the safety of his boys. An hour later he was helping Dean dig the grave while John patrolled the perimeter, making certain that the spirit they were after tonight wouldn't interrupt in the middle of things.

Sam wiped at his sweaty brow, leaving a streak of dirt across his forehead. Dang it, what was taking Dean so long? He'd climbed out of the pit a few minutes ago to get the salt and lighter fluid out of the jacket left on the ground hear the headstone.

"Dean?" he called poking his head over the top and staring through the misty night. "Dean? Where the hell did you go?"

No answer.

Groaning, the young teenager hoisted himself out of the grave, squinting through the darkness. Dangit. Running his hand through his tangled brown hair he wondered where Dean had wandered off to. Maybe to check on Dad, or maybe he had to take a bathroom break. Either way, he might as well finish things off here.

His jacket lay in a crumpled heap near the foot of the huge marble tombstone and he walked over, bending over to rifle through the pockets.

"Boo!!"

Sam gave a yelp and a curse, falling on his rear as he glared at his laughing brother who had appeared from behind the headstone. "Dean, you jerk!" he shouted furiously, flinging his coat at him.

"Ouch!" Dean growled, the canister of salt thudding against his head before falling to the ground. "Sheesh! I didn't think you'd freak out that much!"

"Well maybe you'd better start thinking," a rumbly voice cut in, causing both brothers to jump to their feet. John was eyeing them, his rifle in his hands. "Hurry up and get these bones taken care of. Graveyard is no place to spend Halloween."

"Yes sir," they both chorused, Dean picking up the salt and Sam pulling out the lighter fluid. In seconds the small family was standing around staring down at the flames consuming the bones, crackling merrily.

"Happy Halloween," Sam muttered.

"Aw, lighten up Sammy," Dean whispered, elbowing him lightly. "I'll give you all my Milkyways when we get home." Seeing the younger boy's face light up, he grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Happy Halloween, bro."


	10. Crush on a Witch

A/N: For the theme Witch. Review please:)

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Crush on a Witch

"Guess what Daddy?" Sam came barging in the door, his backpack swinging from his arm and his pirate hat hanging over one eye.

"Shut up Sam!" came Dean's bellow as he followed his brother inside, his face set in a scowl, ninja face mask pulled down.

"Dean, language!" John propped himself up on his elbow to stare over the back of the couch at his boys. "How was the Halloween parade at school, boys?" Having to work a longer shift at the garage, he hadn't been able to make it to watch with all the other adoring parents as his children marched in their Halloween finery.

His youngest was bouncing up and down happily, a sucker in his mouth as he came around to beam at his father. "It was awesome Daddy! My teacher said I was the bestest pirate _ever_! And lookit- we had a party in class and there was tons of candy, and cupcakes. I brought you one!" Grinning, he pulled out the slightly squashed vanilla cupcake topped with bright orange frosting and placed it proudly in his father's hand.

"Thanks, Sammy." John briefly hugged Sam, not being much one for physical displays of affection. "I'm glad you had a good time." His dark eyes wandered to the doorway where his eldest had vanished through. "What about you, Dean?"

"Fine!" yelled Dean, and Sam giggled.

"He's not fine," he whispered in John's ear. "He has a crush on a witch."

"He has a crush on a what?" John repeated, an eyebrow lifting. "A witch?"

"Not a real witch," Sam assured his father solemnly, his eyes bright. "He-"

"Sam, shut UP!!" Dean roared, sticking his head back into the hallway.

"Dean," his father began warningly, and his son's hazel eyes dropped guiltily.

"Sorry, sir," he muttered grumpily.

John sat up, pulling Sam into his lap and patted the space on the couch next to them. Dean came obediently but unwillingly, still scowling at the ground. "Now what's this about the witch?" he asked.

Shooting a warning glare at Sam who was still sucking on his cherry lollipop, Dean reluctantly began to speak. "There's this girl in my class. Her name's Shauna Richards. She was dressed up as a witch today for Halloween. Everyone thinks she's the prettiest girl in class, and I guess she is. She has brown eyes and blond hair."

"Do you have a crush on this girl, son?"

Dean squirmed slightly, still scowling at his shoes. "Sort of. . ." he mumbled, scuffing his toe against the rug.

"I told you Daddy," Sam whispered in John's ear. "Dean has a crush on a witch!"

"So what's the problem then?"

His eldest son had slid down on the couch, his head tucked down. "She already has a boyfriend."

John resisted the urge to clap a hand to his forehead. Girlfriends and boyfriends, at this age? Weren't they too young for this sort of thing? "So. . . why does that matter?"

"He wants to ask her to dance at the Monster Mash this afternoon," Sam piped up helpfully. "But he's afraid that her boyfriend might sock him."

"He isn't bigger than me," Dean said hastily, scowling at his brother. "But you always told me I shouldn't fight at school."

Taking a deep breath, John tried to keep his voice even to not show how much this was stressing him out. "There doesn't need to be a fight. If she's as popular as you say, then chances are lots of other boys are going to want to dance with her too." Dean didn't look pleased by this, but his father continued on. "I don't think her boyfriend can hit all of you, especially if there are teachers there. Besides, son, it's the girl's choice whether or not she wants to dance with you. Just be polite and ask her nicely, and see what happens."

"I guess." But Dean seemed to have brightened, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall and stood up. "I'm going to go back then for the dance."

Have fun then," John told him absently, eyeing Sam's candy bag and wondering what other goodies the boy had in there.

"Bye Dean!" Sam waved cheerfully at his brother as he headed for the door once more. "Be nice to the witch girl!!"


	11. Monster Mash

A/N: For the theme Monster. Review please:)

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Monster Mash

"Dean?"

Sam's voice through the phone was calm, but his brother knew something was wrong at once. "What's up? Why are you calling me when you should be dancing with that gorgeous girl?"

He inhaled shakily, but kept his voice even. "There was a. . . problem, at the dance," he admitted, glancing sideways out across the gym at the chaos that surrounded him. "It was. . . I don't know. . . some monster. . ." Sam lifted his hand, distractedly running his fingers through his sweat dampened hair.

Dean's heart sank. "It's okay Sammy," he said easily. "What monster? Did you recognize it?"

Leaning against the bleachers, Sam sighed. "I think it was a hell hound," he said uneasily. On the other end of the line, Dean swore. "It's okay," he hastened to reassure his brother. "I took care of it. But. . ."

"You took care of it?"

"Yeah."

There was silence on the other end for a minute, then Dean sighed. "Dad's on a job tonight, but I'll be over in a few minutes to help you take care of things."

"Thanks."

Sam flipped the phone close and sank down onto one of the metal bleachers with a sigh, resting his head in his hands. He had been hoping for a normal evening, and it had been a promising one. There was a Halloween dance, he'd found a girl he liked to go, and even managed to pull together a decent costume. Things had been going well for about an hour or so before the screams started. Everything after that was a blur of color- his vision seeming to fragment into bits and pieces. A flash of reptilian skin and gold eyes, crimson blood, and a horrible screaming roar flooded the room.

He had reacted so quickly that it could be called nothing else but instinct. He'd shoved his date down behind an over turned table for safety and began to frantically search for a weapon. One was found in the form of a metal pipe that was part of the volley ball poles for the net and he'd gripped it tightly in his hands before dashing over to intercept the beast. It had whirled on him, claws and fangs bared but Sam had dodged the assault, swiping at the thing's underbelly with his make shift weapon managing to open a shallow wound in its scaly hide. With a hiss of pain and anger the creature leapt at him once again, but he managed to duck as it flew over his head, presenting him with a wide open target. With all the strength he could muster, Sam thrust the pipe upward, clean through the monster. It fell on top of him, dying without even another cry. He had struggled out from underneath it, his clothing spattered with blood and gore to find the room in total chaos and practically deserted. The only ones left in the room beside himself where a few girls who had passed out and the bodies of a few other people.

A hand touched his arm and Sam blinked, looking up into his brother's concerned face. "Hey," he managed hoarsely.

"Hey," Dean returned, his eyes still scanning Sam for some injury.

"I'm okay," Sam assured him, staring down at himself, realizing how he must appear. "It's not mine- it's the thing's." He jerked his head slightly in the direction of the monster's corpse. "It didn't get me."

Nodding slightly Dean straightened, walking over to where it lay. "Yeah, it's a hell hound," he affirmed, squinting down at the body. "Some demon must have let it out for its own twisted amusement. His idea of celebrating the holiday I suppose." He blinked, then glanced over to where Sam was sitting. "What on earth did you use on it?"

"Pipe," he answered dully.

Dean let out a whistle, raising his eyebrows in admiration. "Dude, that's awesome."

Sam shrugged, still staring at his stained cloths until his brother dragged him to his feet.

"C'mon. I torched the corpse outside. You've been sitting here in a daze for the past few minutes, bro. Let's get you home."

"Home," he repeated with a sigh, allowing Dean to lead him out of the wrecked gym and into the night, to where the Impala was parked, waiting for them.


	12. Smashing Pumpkins

A/N: For the theme Pummpkin. Review please:)

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Smashing Pumpkins

Looking into Sam's tear-filled eyes, Dean felt his stomach twist, and silently cursed delinquent teenagers. Didn't they know how long his little brother had spent on the stupid thing?

"Why would someone do this, Dean?" he asked miserably, holding the shattered remains of his pumpkin.

"Cause people are friggen jerks," was the only response he could give, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Sammy." He hated seeing the kid so down, so upset. It wasn't fair; Sam so rarely had the chance to do something normal kids his age did, to act like Halloween was just another holiday instead of one of the most dangerous times of the year. They hadn't watched as Sam had spent hours planning out the design for his jack o lantern, hadn't helped the boy cut the top off the squash so he could dig out the innards. He'd worked so hard and so carefully, and for what? So that a couple of bored teenage punks could smash it?

The younger boy was staring down at the pieces of orange shell and pulp before dumping them into the garbage can, his lip quivering. "I hate teenagers," he mumbled.

"You and me both." Dean glared up and down the street, as if the villains were in his line of sight before grabbing Sam's hand and towing him down the steps.

"Hey!" Sam spluttered, confused as he tried to keep up with his brother's stride. "Where are we going, Dean?"

"To get you a new pumpkin. I'll help you carve it."

Sam's green eyes lit up, but then he frowned. "But they'll just smash it again," he pointed out.

Dean merely shook his head. "You don't worry about that, Sammy. Just leave that to me."

Later that night, the same group of teenage boys were wandering down the sidewalk again, bored out of their minds. They had been kicked out of the arcade half an hour ago when it closed, and they had already spent as much time as they could stand smoking and toilet papering unsuspecting homes. Now they were roaming the street, looking for a new form of entertainment.

"Hey, look," one murmured, elbowing his buddies and pointing toward a porch were a flicker of glowing light had caught his eye.

One of them sniggered. "Another one? Didn't they learn the last time."

Cackling amongst themselves the boys shuffled quickly over to the house, walking up the steps and reaching for the orange orb that was glowing within from the light a small candle. Fingers had barely touched the smooth shell when the most terrifying sound ever met their ears: the sound of a shot gun being prepped to fire.

"Hey there," a boy's voice drawled pleasantly, and the group turned wide eyed to see a kid younger than they were sitting in a folding chair, his feet propped up on a block of wood, a gleaming gun resting across his lap. "You weren't planning to smash that pumpkin, were you?"

The group backed up slowly as the boy stood, the gun held confidently in his hands.

"Cause you know, my kid brother spent a long time on that pumpkin," he continued conversationally, stepping closer and closer as they backed away. "It would break his heart if it got smashed again. And it would make me really angry if someone makes my brother upset. Got it?"

Dean smirked as the teens tore off into the night, leaning over to blow out the candle inside Sam's pumpkin. There was no more need for pumpkins to fear on the Winchester's street.


	13. Full Moon

A/N: For the theme full moon. I took a bit of liberty and inventing with this chater- I'm not sure how much of it is correct, but oh well. Enjoy and review please:)

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Full Moon

"I can't believe this," Sam muttered, hunching over in embarrassment. He'd always known his brother was insane, but this just proved it. 

"C'mon Sam!" Dean shouted out gleefully. "Don't be such a stick in the mud! Come join us!"

From behind the bush, Sam groaned, burying his face in his hands. "No way in hell," he mumbled.

"Saaaammmmm!!!"

"NO!!!"

It had all started simply enough. Just a routine job; some evil witch was causing havoc for some practicing modern Wicca preparing to celebrate the Halloween holiday and the Winchester brothers decided to help out. Getting rid of the old crone had been easy; they had just lured her into a trap and wasted her, piece of cake. The Wicca were incredibly grateful, and in an effort to show their gratitude, they had invited the brothers to join in their celebration, including a feast. Which would have been more than fine, but it was what had come after that was the problem.

Sam had forgotten that this Halloween was a full moon. Part of the ritual celebration was a fertility dance in the moonlight. Butt naked. Which of course, Dean had been more than happy to partake in. Frolicking naked with girls in a similar state of undress? It was right up his elder brother's alley. But for Sam, seeing his brother in his birthday suit and hitting on nude women wasn't his idea of a good time to spend Halloween. Neither was sitting on the cold ground behind bushes, but whatever. At least he wouldn't be scarred for life.

"Aw, Sam," Dean's voice came from just above his head and he cautiously glanced up to see his brother's head poking over the top of the bushes. "Don't be a fun sucker!"

"Just go back to your dance," Sam grumbled. "The sooner you finish, the sooner we can get out of here."

"I just don't understand you," the elder Winchester sighed. "How often do we get the opportunity to do stuff like this? It's a dream come true!" 

"More like a nightmare," the other responded under his breath as Dean left once more to join in the celebration.


	14. Decorating

A/N: For the theme scarecrow. I'm trying my best to finish these before Halloween, but I don't know if I shall. Cheer for me:P

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Decorating

"This place doesn't look like its ready for Halloween."

Dean had to agree with his little brother. They didn't have any decorations besides the pumpkins they had carved, the fake spider webs, and the cut out bats they had made from construction paper. They didn't have money to waste on such things, John had said, so they decided to make their own.

"Yeah. . . but I'm out of ideas. What else can we make for decorations?"

Sam frowned, thinking it over. "Well," he began slowly, his brow wrinkled in a frown. "We could make a scarecrow."

"A scarecrow?" Dean repeated skeptically. "How? We don't have any straw."

But Sam had started to grin, his green eyes sparkling. "We don't need straw," he told his brother dismissively. "We have all those leaves that we need to rake up! We can stuff the cloths with that!"

Dean's smile mirrored his little brother's. "Yeah! We can get some of Dad's old things! He has tons of cloths he's ruined hunting! And that will make it creepier! A bloody scarecrow!!"

"And we can use the pumpkin Dad didn't carve for its head!"

"Awesome!" The brothers grinned at each other before dashing off to get started.

When John came home that evening, he was startled by the figure sitting on the front porch. As he drew nearer, he found himself staring at a lifelike figure wearing his own bloody, muddy clothing with an orange head. Its face had been drawn on with a black marker, its features a fierce scowling grimace. In its folded arms was a toy water pistol. All in all, the effect was a scarecrow that was not to be messed with.

Chuckling at the creativity of his boys, John inserted the key into the lock and opened the door, calling out, "I'm home."


	15. Vampires Will Never Hurt You

A/N: For the theme vampire. :-F

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Vampires Will Never Hurt You

She watched quietly as Eli and some of the others took Sam Winchester back to the hotel where his brother was waiting, her slender arms wrapped around her body as if to shield herself from the cold though it had been ages since Lenore had felt temperature of any kind.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and she turned to go back inside. There were still some items of sentimental value that needed to be packed up and taken with them. Most things could be replaced, but there were things like photos and small trinkets that were priceless. Even as she worked, Lenore kept hearing Sam's words in her mind.

_"Why should I believe you?" _

_"Because I'm going to let you go." _

Blinking, a wry smile curved her lips. It hadn't been the first time she had let Sam go, had not been the first time they had met. He didn't remember. Of course, he'd only been a child at the time, young, helpless, completely without defense. It was natural that he wouldn't remember the time she had saved his life.

It had been a Halloween many years ago, back when the young man had only been a child, perhaps six or seven. She had barely been aware of the family of hunters in the city but she had been following an enemy, someone who had ruined the last few homes she had been able to have. This vampire did not follow the vegetarian diet she and her followers abided by, and she had had enough. The time had come to take her out.

Lenore had tracked her to a bar, keeping herself hidden in the back as she listened to the other converse with a bartender who was also one of their kind. Listening hard, she learned that her foe had lost her mate because of the father of the family of hunters, and she was out for revenge, which she planned to carry out tonight. It seemed that the elder members of the family, their name Winchester, had a pressing job that night that had taken them both away from the youngest child, leaving him alone and defenseless. This child, an innocent, was the one her enemy targeted.

She acted at once, though at first she could not say why. She told herself it was because it was the quickest way to rid herself of the burdensome vampire, but later she knew that it was mostly because she recalled faintly what it was like to be so young and helpless.

A quick rifling through a phone book yielded the information Lenore needed and she was soon at the small Winchester home. It was remarkably easy to sneak into the house, and on soundless feet she moved into the tiny room where the young boy was curled up in his bed, fast asleep and blissfully unaware of the danger he was in. She had roused him gently, offering whispered reassurances that she was there to help; he awoke groggily, his eyes bleary with sleep. When she asked his name, his whispered response was simple. 

_"Sam. Brother calls me Sammy." _

_"Okay, Sammy. I need you to come with me. I'm going to take you someplace safe, and I'll bring you back when the danger's gone. Can you put your arms round my neck?" _

_"Kay." _

He was compliant; perhaps not even aware he was awake. She had scooped him up easily into her embrace, his warm weight oddly comforting against her icy body as she had carried him out of his home and into the night. Sam had fallen asleep again quickly as she ran, leaving him in a place with people she trusted before going after her enemy. The battle was quick and over fast, and soon Lenore was taking the sleeping child home to his bed where she tucked him in carefully and stood watch for a long time.

Blinking herself out of the past, Lenore nodded to Eli who had just returned. "Did you take him safely back?"

He nodded gruffly, apparently not pleased. "I would have rather left him in pieces."

She shook her head slightly. "No. He may be a hunter, but he does his job for the same reason we do what we do."

"And what is that?" he sneered skeptically.

Lenore sighed, stepping closer to the angry vampire and resting a hand against his cheek. "To protect the innocent."


	16. Sweet Rewards

A/N: For the theme Candy.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Sweet Rewards

Sam stared at the bag that Dean was offering him before looking up at his brother. "What did you do?"

"What makes you think I did something?"

"You have a bag of candy."

"So?"

"So what, did you go door to door with the little kids to get it?"

Dean made a face, pulling out a peanut butter cup and popping it in his mouth. "So what if I did?"

Sam laughed. "Are you serious? You went, what, 'Dude, give me candy?' Without a costume at the age of twenty eight? I'm surprised no one called the cops on you."

Sighing, Dean tipped the bag upside down on the bed, starting to divide the candy into two piles. "Okay wise guy, I didn't go Trick or Treating with the kiddies."

"Thank heavens. I didn't want to see your face on the news tonight as the neighborhood pedophile. What else would they think you are when you go around without a little kid as a candy collecting buddy?"

"Haha," the other man responded, rolling his eyes. "You're really funny, you know that?"

"I try." Sam plopped down on the bed, reaching for a Milkyway bar, unwrapping it slowly as he spoke. "Seriously, where did you get all this candy?"

"Well. . ." Dean started to chuckle, shaking his head. "You know that ghost we've been tracking?"

"Yeah. . ."

"I ran into it on the way to the grocery store- turns out that was the place it was haunting. I guess he was a butcher who was murdered there and he had a bit of a grudge. So after I put him in his place, the owner was so grateful, he gave me a bunch of candy." Sam stared at the sack for a minute, and Dean continued, sounding sheepish. "The rest of it is in the trunk," he admitted.

Chuckling, Sam shook his head. "What is the world coming to when we're rewarded with candy?"

"A much better place, bro," Dean answered before tipping his head back to empty a pixie stick container into his open mouth. 


	17. Blood Mix

A/N: For the theme Blood.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Blood Mix

Strawberry syrup didn't look quite right and neither did the fake blood they had bought from the store. Squirted out on the paper lying on the counter, they looked exactly like what they were. Dean flopped down on the couch with a frustrated sigh, casting a glance at Sammy who was watching Thundercats.

"Man. . ." he muttered with a sigh.

"What?" Sam's clear bright eyes had turned from the screen to look at his older brother.

"I can't get my costume right," Dean complained, his brow furrowing into a scowl. "I'm going to look like a completely fake reaper!"

His brother blinked, cocking his head to the side. "What about the fake blood Daddy bought for you?"

"That's the problem- it _looks_ fake."

Sam slipped out of the armchair, padding over to peer at his brother's attempts. He touched the faint pinkish line of strawberry syrup, then licked his fingers. "It tastes good."

"Great. Now everyone will try to eat me," Dean grumbled, but Sam didn't appear to be listening.

The young boy went over to the refrigerator, pulling open to scan the contents. "We don't have any ketchup?"

"No. We used the last on the hotdogs for dinner the other night, remember?"

Sam frowned, deep in thought, then turned to peer into the pantry where a canister caught his eyes. A beaming smile on his face, he rose up on his tiptoes to lift it down, carrying it over to the table before going to get a large bowl, egg beaters, and a can opener.

Dean stared at him, perplexed. "What are you doing, Sammy?"

"Makin' you some blood," was the response. His tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration as he opened the huge can and dumping the contents into the bowl. Carefully he plugged in the egg beaters and turned it on.

"Out of what?" The older Winchester stood up, picking up the empty canister. "Whole tomatoes?"

"Mmhmm," was the response as Sam moved the beaters through the muck, pulverizing the tomatoes into a gooey thick mush. "Will you put some of that strawberry syrup in?"

Dean picked up the bottle, squirting a steady stream of the pink goo into the bowl, watching as the mess became a fairly realistic reddish liquid. "Sammy, you're a genius."

His brother grinned toothily as Dean ruffled his hair. "You're gonna be the best reaper ever," he told him happily.


	18. A Little Wooly

A/N: For the theme Spell. I don't know how I feel about this one. It's kind of weird. Oo

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

A Little Wooly

"You okay?"

Silence.

"Dean, I'm serious. Are you alright?"

"Fine," was the grumpy response.

Sam fought to keep his expression normal, his eyes fixed on the road as he drove. "Just making sure, you know, to make sure that there aren't any unpleasant side effects-"

"There aren't any side effects! Just leave me alone so I can forget about it!" Dean was slumped down in his seat, arms crossed, an angry scowl creasing his face.

His wall of control cracked slightly, his mouth twitching. "It's not something I will ever forget."

"Sam, I'm warning you," his brother hissed threateningly, "keep your mouth shut."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about it," Sam assured, his eyes sparkling with bottled up mirth. "But you have to admit, that spell was sheer genius."

"No, it was pure evil," Dean growled. "I'm glad that sadistic old warlock is dead."

Lips trembling to hold back his laughter, Sam kept his voice controlled as he spoke again. "Well, yes, I suppose it's for the greater good-"

"Of course it is," the other man snapped. "Do you really want him alive and running around casting those kinds of spells?"

Sam thought it over and agreed that Dean had a point. "Okay, you got me there. But you can't deny that it was amusing."

"Sure, it was for you." Dean's hazel eyes were narrowed into slits. "You weren't the one under it." A shudder went through the man's frame and he seemed to huddle down into the seat.

"Going to have bad dreams now, Dean?"

"I warned you."

"I guess you won't be counting sheep anymore to fall asleep, huh?"

Dean's face contorted and his voice trembled with suppressed anger. "If you weren't driving, I'd pummel you."

He couldn't keep the straight face anymore. The laughter escaped him in a howl, fighting to keep his attention on his driving. "Sorry. . . sorry. . . the memory of you professing your love to a sheep-" Overcome by the image of Dean hugging the thick wooly animal he chuckled helplessly, his hands trembling on the steering wheel.

"Can it!!!" He slugged Sam in the shoulder.

It had little effect. Rubbing his shoulder with his free hand, still snickering, Sam managed to say, "Hey, if it hadn't been for me, you might have ended up making out with Mary's little lamb."

Still scowling, he admitted grudgingly, "Point taken."


	19. Locked Up

A/N: For the theme Coffin. I'm kinda on a roll tonight. :D

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Locked Up

"Do you think Dad will be angry with us?"

His brother considered this. "Well. . . maybe. If he finds out. But seriously! That creep was asking for it."

"No kidding." Flicking his brown hair out of his emerald eyes, he glanced sideways at his brother strolling along side him. "But he might think it's a little extreme. . ."

Snorting, Dean shook his head. "I think Dad would have done the same thing if he'd been in our shoes. Besides, it's not like we did any permanent damage. Someone will find him by tomorrow and let the little cretin out."

Sam thought this over before tilting his head back to stare up at the moon. "Yeah. Too bad. I think a few days in there would straighten out his need to bully the kids in the neighborhood."

"Freak yeah! I mean, seriously, what was his problem? He couldn't have wanted their candy that badly."

"He must have had a very unsatisfactory childhood."

"No kidding. Doesn't mean that he has to take it out on kids younger than himself though."

"Yeah, I know." The crunch of fall leaves beneath their feet was the only sound for a moment before Sam chuckled. "I wish I could be there to see his face when he gets out."

Grinning, Dean nudged him slightly. "I know. He'll think twice about knocking down little girls in angel costumes for their M&M's."

Only minutes later they were walking up the porch steps to their home, finding their father on the couch watching a late night show. He raised his eyebrow as they came in.

"Where have you two been?"

"Out," his eldest son answered innocently.

John's eyes narrowed slightly before glancing at his youngest. "Sammy?"

"Er, well, you know. . . protecting people, all that stuff."

"I assume that would include saving trick-or-treaters from the neighborhood bully?" he inquired dryly. When his sons exchanged surprised glances, he continued. "Angela Jones' mother came over to thank you two for helping her daughter." He rested his elbows on his knees, his fingers interlocking. "So, what did you do with him?"

Sam and Dean exchanged devious smirks.

"Let's just say he's a little shut up at the moment," Dean answered with a chuckle.

"Don't worry," Sam assured his father, his grin widening. "We'll call the funeral home first thing in the morning and leave an anonymous tip for them to check the big black coffin in the side room."

John watched his sons retreat to their room and shook his head. They were entirely too conniving when they worked together.


	20. Devil in Us All

A/N: For the theme Devil. It's after midnight, so I don't really know what to think of this one. Oo

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Devil in Us All

For what felt like the thousandth time that night, the doorbell rang. Sighing, Dean grabbed the orange plastic bowl of candy, strolling over to open the door.

"Trick or treat."

Blinking, Dean stared down at the boy in front of him who had to have been at least thirteen and was wearing a devil suit made out of silky red material complete with a pair of sparkly horns, a tail, and a pitchfork clenched in his left hand. "Uh-"

Impatiently, the boy shook his bag, glancing meaningfully at the bowl. "Dude, trick or treat."

"Right." He dropped three pieces into the kid's bag. "Go pig out."

The devil stared at the bag then back up at him. "You gotta be kidding me. Three? Are you cheap?"

Glaring, Dean snorted. "What do you expect? Half the bowl? There are other kids, punk. Besides, aren't you a little old to be trick or treating in your mom's pj's? Now get lost."

He started to turn when he was jabbed sharply by the pitchfork. "C'mon, tightwad. Just two more pieces?"

Dean set the candy bowl down and reached for the shotgun behind the door, lifting it. "You were saying?"

The words were barely out of his mouth when the kid bolted, his horns askew, tail flapping out behind him.

His father came home and hour later, back from taking Sam around the neighborhood. "Any trouble, son?" he asked absently as he pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator.

"Nope," Dean answered casually, twirling the abandoned pitchfork between his fingers. "None at all."


	21. Not Fair

A/N: For the theme Werewolf. A bit angsty. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Not Fair

It wasn't fair. Bitter tears stung Sam's eyes as he stared down at the small creature snapping and snarling at him, fangs gleaming dangerously in the light of the full moon. It just wasn't fair. He wasn't in any danger at the moment- the restraints should hold until his father and brother arrived- but that was the farthest thought from his mind.

"I'm sorry this happened to you." He spoke out loud, though he wasn't sure if his words would mean anything to the raving little monster, but perhaps a human voice would help sooth it. "It shouldn't have, and if there were anything I could do to take it from you, I would."

There were more snarls, but they seemed to be quieting, as if the poor beast had accepted that she wouldn't be getting free any time soon.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his brown hair as he continued to speak. "Your father shouldn't have done this to you- any of you. I don't care what his reasons for it were. Nothing can justify damning his wife and child to a monster's life. I really and truly am sorry."

Those dark orbs were fixed on him, feral, but with a hint of intelligence in their depths. The angry growls and snarls had faded into silence and now she was curled into a ball, eyeing him as he spoke.

"I'm kinda in the same boat, you know," he continued conversationally, leaning back against the wall as he spoke. "I was dragged into doing this sort of thing by my dad. At first it was just him and my older brother doing it, but once he decided I was old enough to stay out of danger for the most part." Sam snorted, shaking his head. "Honestly. Who in their right mind would bring their teenager into this sort of thing? I'm seventeen, and I've seen things that most people would never even dream of."

When John and Dean Winchester arrived at the abandoned warehouse a few hours after dawn, it was to find Sam fast asleep, a tiny girl no older than 7 or 8, cuddled in his lap also slumbering. Her long dark brown hair was matted and tangled, deep scratches on her slim pale arms, clothing bloody and torn. Dean's face twisted and he turned away, swearing under his breath and even John seemed to waver.

"When Sam told us he needed help taking care of a werewolf, I was expecting-"

Voice breaking, Dean turned away, his fist balling up. John didn't speak, touching his eldest son's shoulder lightly in comfort, though his eyes were still fixed on his youngest, still fast asleep with the little werewolf girl held protectively to his chest.


	22. Recipe for a Sleepless Night

A/N: For the theme Midnight.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Recipe for a Sleepless Night

Too much candy, Halloween costumes, and trick-or-treating, were a recipe for a night of sleepless fun for the Winchester boys.

"I swear, the Linden's give out the best candy ever."

"That's 'cause they make it homemade," Dean answered, busy stuffing his face with more of the chocolate covered cherries, a happy grin on his face. "Though Mrs. Adams makes incredible candy apples."

"Can't argue with that," was Sam's response as he jumped up and down on the bed, his ghoulish mask still on his head. "I still can't believe we TP'd Josh Turner's house."

"Meh, he deserved it," his brother answered idly, lying on his back with his furry false monster feet in the air as he chomped on some mini M&M's. "Besides, it's part of the Halloween experience, right? Trick or treat? Well, I'm sure he got his treats, so its only fair we gave him a trick."

"Honey covered toilet paper was a great idea," the younger told him admiringly, pulling the mask up slightly to reveal his flushed face and sitting down at last, starting to unwrap a peanut butter cup.

"It was, huh?" Dean grinned widely. "Though I think your idea of the Oreos on all the windows was pretty good too."

"Thanks." Sam eyed the king sized Milkyway bar Dean had just pulled out of his candy bag. "Pillow fight for that?"

The grin widened. "You're on."

John entered the room five minutes later to pillows flying, feathers drifting through the air, and his boys entangled on their beds admidst candy and bits of their costumes. He cleared his throat and there was suddenly silence as the two looked sheepishly up at their father.

"Are you two aware that it's midnight?"

Sam and Dean glanced at the clock then back at their bleary-eyed father. "Sorry, sir," they said together.


	23. Don't Go There

A/N: For the theme Ghost.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Don't Go There

"You shouldn't go to that house."

Sam turned, startled, his plastic pumpkin bucket smacking into his side as he stared at the solemn little boy in a bloody sheet. He was small, around Sam's own age, but he couldn't ever recall seeing this kid at his elementary school. "Um, hi," he said slowly, blinking at the boy. "Do I know you?"

The boy didn't seem to hear, his pale face moving closer to Sam's. "Don't go there," he repeated, pointing to the house up the drive that the young Winchester had just started up. His eyes were strangely dark, black circles ringing them. It was an incredible makeup job, Sam decided.

"Why not?" he asked curiously.

The little boy blinked. "Bad people live there," he told him seriously. "They would hurt you."

"Oh." Sam shifted from foot to foot, frowning. "I guess I should go home then. This is the last house on the route."

"Can I walk home with you?" The boy had moved soundlessly nearer, his sheet not even rustling. He held out a pale white hand, and for the first time Sam saw the lonely, scared look in his fellow child's eyes.

"Sure," Sam responded kindly, taking the boy's hand in his own, towing him forward. "My Daddy can drive you home too."

The boy didn't say anything, merely tightened his cold fingers around Sam's warm hand. When they reached the brightly lit Winchester home, Sam had to let go to twist the doorknob open.

"Daddy?" he called. "Can you drive the boy home?"

John rose from the couch, coming to the door, a frown suddenly flittering across his face. "What boy, Sammy?"

Sam turned and started. The little boy in the bloody ghost sheet was gone.


	24. Game Over

A/N: For the theme Zombie.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Game Over

The townspeople were all doomed. Both brothers could see that at an instant. Their emotionless moans and cries chilled the marrow in their bones, and Dean had raised his gun without even a thought. He could clearly smell the decay as well as see it, their rotting bodies closing in around in a tight circle to prevent escape.

"Dean, watch out!" Sam hissed warningly in his ear, jabbing towards the left.

"I know, I know," he muttered between his teeth, still focused on eliminating the closest threats. "I have to get rid of these morons first."

"Dean-"

"Yeah, yeah." He was firing rapidly, making sure to get headshots. The surest way to kill a zombie was a bullet right through what was left of their rotting brains. A grin twitched his lips as zombie after zombie bit the dust from his bullets; he was on a roll! He was so going to make it!

"Dean! Get that ladder!"

His eyes at last flicked in the direction Sam had indicated and he swore under his breath. A zombie with a chain saw was heading towards him up a ladder he had missed. Frantically he dived to kick it over, but was not fast enough. The chainsaw came down and in a splatter of crimson blood and gore it was all over.

"Damn!"

"I tried to tell you," Sam said apologetically, staring at where Dean sat slumped on the floor, his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his features. The controller rested by his feet as Game Over flared across the television screen. "Those chainsaw guys are the worst."

Dean shook his head in disgust. "This is nothing like the real thing," he objected. "If they had been real, I would have wasted them!!!"

Sam allowed himself a grin. "Maybe," he replied with a shrug. "It's good practice though."


	25. Oh Mighty Pharaoh

A/N: For the theme Mummy.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Oh Mighty Pharaoh

"You look awesome Sam."

"Shut up. I look fake; completely and totally fake."

Dean frowned. "You do not. You look incredible. It will completely fool them."

"I hate you." If he had been able to move freely without ruining the illusion, he would have tackled Dean. "You just can't say no to a pretty face, can you?"

A snort, and then his brother's hands were pushing on his shoulders, urging him to lie back down. "C'mon. Like we were supposed to stand around and let a priceless artifact be stolen by a bunch of crazy Egyptian priest ghosts who want the body of their dead ruler back?"

Sam sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his mummy wrappings. "But did it have to be this way? Why am I the one lying here pretending to be Tutmose VI or whoever? Why aren't you the one covered in rags and ace bandages?"

"Because you're taller and closer to the ol' mummy's height. Would it look right to have a short mummy in a sarcophagus too long?"

"You're short. And bossy."

"And you're supposed to be pretending to be a dusty mummy. Now keep quiet!"

Rolling his eyes, Sam held perfectly still, hands crossed over his chest as he waited for the plan to unfold.


	26. Super

A/N: For the theme Costume.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Super

John's lip curled unhappily. "Why are you making me do this, Mary?"

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she tugged gently on a lock of his hair, her smile blinding. "It's not like I'm trying to torture you, honey."

"I seriously doubt that." His voice was glum.

She laughed, shaking her head and causing her blond hair to sway. "But Dean's so excited," she chastised gently. "Do you want to disappoint him?"

His mouth curved into a grimacing frown. "But the tights!! Do they have to be tights?"

Mary's eyes gleamed with sudden mischief. "They'll make you look sexy," she told him in a low, seductive voice.

John raised an eyebrow. "I somehow doubt that."

She pouted and slapped at his arm. "Oh you! Fine, if you don't want to dress up with the rest of your family, then go tell Dean. Then you can look into his sad, teary eyes and explain why you're being such a stick in the mud."

He groaned, shoulders slumping. "Fine," he mumbled, grabbing the bag from her hands. "I'll do it."

Mary grinned widely. "It'll be perfect," she assured him. "Superman, Wonder woman, and Batman. A family of Super Heroes."


	27. Wake Up Call

A/N: For the theme Mask. I think I need a wake up call of my own. So tired. . .

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Wake Up Call

"Dean."

The sleeping boy mumbled, rolling over in his blankets.

The soft little whisper came again. "Dean."

"Wha-? Go 'way," he muttered, burrowing deeper into his pillows. A finger poked his shoulder and he groaned, lifting his head and fighting to clear his vision. "What?" Was as far as he got before a strangled scream escaped his lips and he fell off the other side of the bed.

"Damn it Sammy!" he gasped, clutching at his chest. "Why the freak-?"

Behind the monstrous mask he could imagine his little brother's eyes blinking innocently. "Daddy told you not to swear anymore," he told Dean solemnly, still crouched on the other side of the bed.

"Never mind that," Dean said impatiently, reaching over to tug the mask off. "What the freak are you doing wearing this?"

Sam's young face looked surprised. "It's Halloween today, Dean," he answered, crawling up to sit on his brother's bed. "Aren't you excited?"

"Yeah, yeah," the older muttered, trying to push away his irritation. "But next time, Sammy, don't wake me up with a monster mask on, okay?"

"Kay, Dean."


	28. Surprise

A/N: For the theme Tick or Treat. Almost finished. . . only a few more to go!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Surprise

"See you at school tomorrow Sam!"

"Bye Sam! Don't eat too much candy!"

"I won't! See you!" Sam called, waving to his friends as they trouped away into the darkness before walking up the sidewalk to his own house. It had been a good night out with his friends trick or treating, the first year he had gone without Dean and that made him a little sad. But he had fun, and had collected tons of candy, which he did intend to share with his big brother.

He reached the front door and tried to open it, only to find it was locked. Frowning, Sam fumbled in his costume pocket only to remember that he had forgotten his keys. Sighing, the young Winchester rang the bell, feeling like a moron trick or treating at his own house. Waiting impatiently, he began rifling through his candy, looking for a good piece when he head the door open. Looking up, he met the eyes of a monster.

With a strangled yelp Sam threw his candy bag at it, stepping back and fell into the bushes around the porch. As he fought to free himself and run, the monster started laughing, an evil chuckle the young teen recognized.

"DEAN!" he howled furiously.

"What?" his brother asked innocently, pulling off his rubber clown mask to grin down at his brother, a bowl of candy tucked under his arm. "It's Halloween, dude. Dad told me no costumes too scary for the little kiddies, but I forgot to factor in your fear of clowns. Guess that means a bunch of five year olds are braver than you."

The bowl of candy went flying as Sam launched himself at his brother.


	29. No More!

A/N: For the theme Mischief. Two more people!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

No More!

He was aware of his children's eyes on him as he sat down on the couch and he cast the two of them a warning glare. "Boys. . ."

"What, Dad?" Dean inquired innocently, blinking up at him. "We're just sitting here."

John didn't buy it. Unfortunately, his sons had reached the age where they loved to prank each other and even him when they thought they could get away with it. The Halloween season didn't help matters any either; there was too much inspiration for their jokes and tricks, and he shuddered to think what kind of heinous ideas were brewing behind those innocent little faces.

This morning had been especially bad. While showering, the water had turned bloody and he had flipped out until he had realized that it was merely red food coloring. His shouting didn't seem to have deterred either of the children because hidden in his waiting clothing had been a realistic coiled rattle snake made of black plastic, and when he had sat down to his cold cereal, there had been a plastic spider floating inside it.

"Sam, Dean, I mean it, no more," he told them sternly while putting on his boots. "It is not funny."

Sammy pouted, his lip jutting out. "You laughed about the fake bat," he argued.

John sighed; yes, that one had been amusing, he admitted to himself as he laced up his left boot. He had completely lost it, until he realized how ridiculous it was to think a bat would be flying around in the daylight.

"Maybe so," he responded, trying to keep his voice firm. "But I'm starting to loose my patience with this prank business. Now, no more!"

"Yes, sir," both boys sighed together, slumping back on the couch.

John smiled, satisfied. "Good," he told them seriously, reaching for his other boot and sticking his foot inside.

Suddenly, a frown creased his features. There was something soft in his boot. Soft, yielding. . . and furry? Confused, he reached inside, missing the glances his sons exchanged and pulled out the object, a startled roar escaping him as he flung the furry monster away.

"SAM!! DEAN!!!"

The boys cringed, but were unable to hide their laughter as they fell over on the couch.

"Sorry, Dad," Dean gasped out between howls. "We had that one ready before the lecture."

John's eyes were narrowed into a glare as he stared at the creature that he now realized to be made of a soft yielding material covered in fur and with realistic beady eyes. His sons had found his weak point; John Winchester despised rats.


	30. A Day Off

A/N: For the theme Haunted House. One more to go!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

A Day Off

"Lame. Completely lame. Why the heck is that kid screaming?"

"Because stuff like this is scary to normal people."

Dean's eyes sparkled in the dim lighting. "I suppose that's true," he acknowledge, then peered down at the ballroom once more. "Though I guess they did do a decent enough job," he admitted grudgingly.

Sam laughed. "Well, I can't say I've ever encountered a ballroom full of dancing ghosts with one at a pipe organ."

"Or a grave yard _inside_ the house," Dean added as they crested the stairs. "How did they get away with doing something like that?"

His brother shrugged slightly, shifting to try and get more comfortable in the tiny car. "Dunno. Cool special effect though."

Their little cars suddenly swiveled around, facing a wall of mirrors.

Dean squinted, leaning forward. "What the-?"

All around them little kids shrieked in fear and glee, and Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Flashing through the mirrors they could see themselves sitting in their car, but between them was a glowing green ghost. Once out in the bright light, both brothers sighed, shaking their heads.

"Lame," Dean repeated.

"Yeah. Since when have ghosts glowed green?"

The elder Winchester nodded in agreement, pulling out the glossy map out of his back pocket. "Okay, that's the Haunted Mansion down. Where to next?"

"Hmm." Sam leaned over his brother's shoulder to take a look. "How about Splash Mountain?"

"That sounds much better. Let's go."


	31. Haunted

A/N: For the theme All Hallows Eve. This is my last one! I want to thank everyone who reviewed! You guys are the best!! I would give you tons of cookies and Supernatural plushies if I could! I hope you enjoy this last one!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Haunted

He wouldn't let Dean come with him. There was no reason to make his brother face his horrors and suffer with him. Besides, the spirits he sought to find were not ones that would ever hurt him.

Sam paused suddenly on the sidewalk, the wind tugging at his dark brown hair, and he sighed. All Hallows Eve. It was the one night of the year that the spirits of the dead were said to be able to return to the earth. Several cultures around the world believed such a thing was possible including the Japanese and Mexicans. The honored the spirits of their departed family members with their favorite foods and tending to their grave sites.

Starting off once more, Sam's thoughts swam to Dean's reaction to his desire to go seeking the spirits he wanted to speak to. Obviously, his brother had been against it. It was better to let the dead lie, best to keep the living and the dead apart.

'Why give yourself more to angst over?' Dean had demanded. _'They're dead and gone. It doesn't matter any more, Sam. Just let them be.'_

But he couldn't. He wasn't sure whether it was for his sake or their own that he went now down to the little graveyard on the edge of town. Was it to put them at peace, or himself? Sam couldn't really say. All he knew was that something was tugging him here, his sixth sense perhaps.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he held his breath. Though he couldn't see anything, he could feel them all around him. The souls of the departed, all those who had ever died seemed to press in on him, seeking contact with his living flesh.

Exhaling shakily, he pushed onward through the mist, speaking their names under his breath, asking the unseen people for them.

"Have you seen them? Do you know them? Are they here?"

'Keep going,' they urged and he shivered. _'They are here. They are waiting. Go forward.'_

Shivering from both the temperature and the closeness of the ghosts he pressed on through the silent graves and tombstones, past solemn stone guardians and sorrowful marble angels. For such a small graveyard, there seemed to be no end to this place.

Suddenly his eyes found a figure through the gloom, one he had known as well as his brother. "Dad?" he whispered.

John Winchester's spirit moved slowly nearer, hazy and flickering. _"Hello Sammy."_

"Dad, I wanted to-" His voice failed him and he could not go on. "I'm sorry. . ."

There was a light touch on his arm and he found himself staring up into those familiar dark eyes. _"Don't apologize. It was wrong of me to put something like that on you."_

Sam opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, but before he could speak his father interrupted softly.

"Time's running out, son. Dawn's coming. You have to keep moving."

Confused, he could only nod and move numbly forward, John moving along at his side. The mist swirled around his ankles and the wind seemed to whisper with thousands of voices that flooded his ears. But the appearance of another familiar figure drove them into silence and Sam nearly staggered again and perhaps would have fallen if it hadn't been for John's light hand around his arm.

"Sam."

As it had once before, his throat seemed to close up, his eyes stinging as he stared at the woman in the white nightgown who approached with a bright smile. "Hi, Mom."

"Hello dear heart." Her eyes seemed to glow with such warmth it took his breath away, and he saw his parents exchange glances. _"You will be sure to tell Dean I said hello, and that I love him?"_

"Of course," Sam returned, fighting back the tears he knew were just waiting to break free. "But Mom, I want to know-"

She held up her hand slightly, shaking her head. _"No, there is no time. There are others you must see, and to explain would take too long. But don't fear; it will all work out all right."_

Mary was at his other side now, her hand also circling his arm as she and John both helped him moved forward. Dazedly he allowed them to do so, and vaguely he realized the sky was lightening as the sunrise came nearer and nearer.

"Sam, is it really you?"

His head jerked up at the sound of that lovely voice, her head poking out from behind a tree as if she had been playing hide and seek. With a delighted laugh, she came forward, sapphire eyes glittering mischievously.

"J-Jess?"

Her laughter warmed his heard. _"Of course, silly! I came to see you! I've missed you so much!"_

This time he had no control over the single tear that slipped down his cheek. "Me too. Jess, I'm so, so sorry." Sam had to look away from her radiant face, his self control crumpling.

Her arms were around him suddenly as she had held him a thousand times before, her head resting lightly against his chest. _"Oh Sam,"_ Jess murmured with a soft sigh. _"Still the same as always; you always think everything is your fault."_

"But it is," he argued bitterly. "If I had stayed with you. . ."

"It would have happened anyway." She gazed up at him seriously, pulling away though her hand lingered on his arm beside Mary's. _"You could not have saved me. I never blamed you, you know."_ Jess glanced towards the rapidly lightening sky and tugged. _"Hurry, Sam. She still wants to see you."_

"She?" Sam repeated dully through his pain. "There isn't anyone else. . ."

But if they were paying attention they didn't answer, continuing to urge him along the misty path to where a young woman with soft caramel colored hair waited with her back to him. As with the others, she was unfocused and hazy, as if he was staring at her through a dirty window. At his approach she turned and his heart stopped at the sight of that face. He could never forget this woman. She stared at him wide eyed and fearful, making no move to come toward him.

Sam was faintly aware of his parents and Jess letting him go and he stumbled forward, pausing before the short, slender woman. "Ava."

She blinked up at him, her lower lip trembling. _"Hello, Sam."_ Her arms came up to wrap tightly around herself and she lowered her gaze. _"You don't have to speak to me, if you don't want."_

"No, no," he assured her quietly. "I want to. I want to understand, Ava."

Her face twisted slightly. _"Why?"_ she inquired bitterly. _"Why else would I, except to survive? I didn't _want_ to kill anyone, Sam. I didn't want to turn into a monster." _Angrily, Ava swiped at her eyes. _"That's why I was relieved when that Jake guy killed me. I was hoping someone would. I thought maybe it would be you. I wouldn't have minded that."_

"That's twisted," he told her flatly.

She gave him a slight smile. _"Maybe. But I am sort of twisted now."_ Still staring down she took a slow step toward him, raising a small hand to touch his cheek. _"But that doesn't mean you have to be too. I won't let them make you into a monster the way they did to me."_

Sam felt his mouth drop open slightly. "But. . . why?"

Ava raised an eyebrow. _"Isn't that what you were doing for me? You searched for me for five months, trying to save me. And even though you were too late, I was truly touched. It was a sweet thing to do, Sam."_

"I'm sorry," he told her hoarsely. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"It's okay," she assured him, and this time her bright azure eyes lifted to meet his green. _"You did everything in your power, and that's all I can ask. You came for me. That's all that matters."_

Sam shook his head slightly, raising his hand to touch hers that still rested on his cheek. "It doesn't seem enough to me."

Ava shrugged slightly. _"That is something you must come to terms with. I have forgiven you. All of us have," _she added, including Mary, John, and Jess in the statement. _"That's all we can do. Now what remains is for you to forgive yourself."_

Rays of pink light were starting to streak against the dark sky, and they all knew the time had come. Before he could move, Ava was suddenly embracing him, and he held her back. More arms encircled him and he knew that he was surrounded and protected by the four of them, these four spirits who had come to him this night.

"We love you, Sam," Jess whispered.

"We'll be with you," his mother murmured in his ear.

"Stay strong, son. Evil won't last forever," John's rumbly voice reassured him.

"Don't be afraid," Ava told him quietly, holding him even tighter as the light grew brighter. _"We'll protect you. Always."_

Then he was alone, his arms reaching for empty air as the sun peeked over the horizon. All Hallows Eve had come to an end.


End file.
